Tango of Thieves, OR If At First You Don't Suceed
by LieutenantX
Summary: A Cowboy Bebop/Lupin III crossover. The Italian police hires the Bebop Gang to capture Lupin III. R/R!


"Howdy buckaroos!" "It's time for Big Shot, the show that talks all about fugitives!" Three faces crammed around a portable TV. "Today's big bounty is a fellow calling himself Pietro Merishi, an Italian bandit wanted for drug smuggling throughout Europe and the recent murder of several important police officers!"  
  
"Gee, Punch, he sounds dangerous!" "Don't worry, Judy. No-one knows where he is, but if he pokes his head up around here, I'll haul him in myself!"  
  
"Oh, Punch, you're so brave!"  
  
A man hung upside down from a tree nearby, cursing in Italian. The bounty hunters ignored him. There were three of them. One had frizzy hair and wore a blue suit. Another was ridiculously hot. A third was bald and wore overalls. A little dog was curled up in his lap, asleep. All three were emptying bowls of rice into their mouths. The Italian began complaining about his lot in life. Jet threw a chopstick at him and told him to be quiet. He continued his whining. Spike finished licking his bowl clean. "All right. Time to go."  
  
"Eh? What? Hey? What-a you doing? Hey! Put-a me down!"  
  
Whump!  
  
He had been tossed onto the bed of a brown van. Spike slammed the van's door shut. Airbrushed on said door was a red triangle, over which 'Bebop' had been painted in yellow cursive. Spike climbed into the passenger's seat. Jet started the engine. Faye stretched out on a bench in the van's bed. She gave Pietro a kick to shut him up, and fell asleep. The Bebop sped off into the night.  
  
And, just like always, the sun rose the next morning on Rome. It shone through a hotel room window. It shone on a sleeping trio. "Mmmmm, Fuji-baby. give me just one kiss." Lupin III reached for the nearest warm body. This happened to be Jigen. Jigen's eyes snapped open. Lupin's face, still asleep, was uncomfortably close to his.  
  
"Hey! Cut it out! Get off of me!" Jigen beat a hasty retreat to the floor.  
  
"Hey... Quit playing hard to get baby. Come back!"  
  
"Dammit, Lupin!"  
  
Jigen smacked him and grabbed his hat. He put it on and straightened it. Lupin sat up and rubbed his head.  
  
"Hey, what did you do that for? I was having a great dream!"  
  
"And I was having a terrible reality. Get dressed." Fujiko, the real Fujiko, flopped over in the next bed, grumbling. Lupin scratched himself and opened the hotel refrigerator. He rifled through packages of ketchup and mustard looking for real food. Finding none, he tried to think back to where he'd seen the nearest grocery store. Jigen straightened his tie.  
  
"What's for breakfast?" "Unless you really like condiments, we'll need to get it ourselves."  
  
Jigen sighed and opened his wallet. A moth flew out of it. "We're broke. We spent the last of our cash on the room."  
  
"I told you we should have gotten a one bed room."  
  
"Yeah. After that, Fujiko..."  
  
Lupin smiled and laughed uncomfortably.  
  
"Let's just not go into that, shall we?"  
  
("YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?"  
  
"Well, gee, Fuji-cakes, you sleep with lots of guys, right? That's what you're doing he-" WHAM!)  
  
Minutes later, Lupin stood in the frozen food aisle of the nearest grocery. He looked down the aisle at Jigen, then the other way at Fujiko. With a subtle nod, he signaled for them to proceed to the nearest exit. Lupin pushed his shopping cart to the checkout and waited his turn. The cashier rang up their purchases and held out his hand. Lupin paid him and calmly pushed his cart away.  
  
"HEY!"  
  
The cashier held out the fistful of money angrily. Each bill was labeled I.O.U.  
  
"Run!"  
  
Lupin, true to his words, broke into a sprint, closely followed by Jigen and Fujiko. A bullet whizzed past his ear. The clerk stood at his register, only now, instead of Lupin's IOUs, he held a smoking rifle. Lupin, Jigen, and Fujiko stopped and raised their hands.  
  
There was a blur. The barrel of the rifle clattered to the pavement. Goemon resheathed his sword. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He yelled.  
  
They took off again. The clerk looked at the stock of his gun in disbelief.  
  
If at First You Don't Succeed OR Tango of Thieves  
  
Zenigata sat in the police chief's office, a look of disbelief on said police chief's face. When Zenigata had finished a generic rant about how badly Lupin needed to see the inside of the deepest, darkest prison in Italy, or heck, Europe, no, why bother, the world!, the chief rose, a look of all seriousness on his face. "From what you say, inspector, this man is very dangerous. He must be arrested at once!" Zenigata leapt from his seat and banged his fist on the chief's desk, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"Now that's the kind of coorperation I need! Well, just get the SWAT teams together and..."  
  
"Shut up. I am on the phone."  
  
Zenigata's grin faded. Sure enough, the chief was on the phone, speaking with a subordinate. Zenigata ignored the conversation, still offended.  
  
"This wasn't what I had in mind." The chief hung the phone back on it's receiver.  
  
"I apologize, inspector, but a matter such as this seems out of hand for our humble policia. However, I have called in some, eh, 'specialists'."  
  
Zenigata swallowed.  
  
"Specialists?"  
  
"Have you ever heard of the 'Bebop gang', inspector?" Zenigata shook his head.  
  
"Sound like criminals to me."  
  
The chief resumed his seat, and leaned forward in the posture that all conspiring important people tend to assume, one elbow resting on the desk, a mischievous grin appearing on his mustachioed face. "Oh, make no mistake, inspector, at one time they were the most ruthless type of bandit. Now, though, they are working on our side."  
  
"I don't follow you."  
  
"Bounty hunters, Mr. Zenigata." Zenigata 'humph'ed.  
  
"How about a name?" "Spike Spiegel."  
  
Zenigata jumped so high his head nearly hit the ceiling. He landed on the chief's desk, a pair of handcuffs in one hand and a pistol in the other. "Spiegel? Coming here?! Let me at him, I'll haul him in and..."  
  
The alarmed chief waved at Zenigata, trying to calm him down. "It's all right, inspector! Mr. Spiegel was granted a full pardon!"  
  
"A what?" Zenigata resumed his seat. "Fine. But I'll be keeping my eye on him. I spent time on his case before Lupin and I crossed paths. He'll always be a criminal, I don't care what he's doing now." From somewhere, bongos started to play. "Oh, don't worry, inspector. Spike would not touch another hair on a police officer's head." "I don't about that..." "Inspector, please, he could be one of the single greatest assets we have in catching these criminals."  
  
I think it's time to blow this scene, get everybody and the stuff together, okay, 3, 2, 1, Let's Jam.  
  
(first few bars of TANK! play)  
  
WHUMP! Another criminal landed on the floor of the Bebop.  
  
(They repeat) WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP! Three kids wearing roller skates, namely Yoyo, Gum, and Corn, landed on the floor of the Bebop, looking dejected.  
  
(Third riff plays) WHUMP!  
  
A very surprised man in a red coat, his blonde hair gelled into tall spikes, was tossed into the van.  
  
(Fourth riff)  
  
WHUMP! Another man, this one wearing a blue suit, landed on top of him. A large crucifix slammed into his head as it was thrown in after them.  
  
(Part B)  
  
The doors slammed on each one of them, in time with the music. As abruptly as it began, the music video ended.  
  
A dark club in Rome. Music played. Soft jazz. Spike puffed on a cigarette and leaned his elbows on the bar. He looked out the corner of his eye at Jet. "We've got a new job coming." Jet mumbled.  
  
"Any details?" Spike asked, not turning his head to look at his partner.  
  
"Nothing. Not even a name."  
  
Spike nodded.  
  
"Well, that's fine with me."  
  
The man turned around to look at the rest of the club. The night dwellers shot pool on one side of the room, while couples danced to the soft songs and tinkling piano that filled the air like the haze of cigarette smoke. A certain pool shark caught Spike's eye. A man wearing a red jacket, sideburns growing down around his jawline. He snapped the cue into a cluster of balls, sinking a few. Spike stood. Jet turned to see where his friend was going, but lost interest after a moment and went back to his drink.  
  
Lupin sank another ball. Jigen shook his head and ground chalk against the head of his pool stick. A man in a blue suit approached.  
  
"Need another player?" Lupin the Third looked up at the newcomer from where he had leaned over to take the next shot.  
  
"Sure, after I take a bit more of Jigen here's money."  
  
He sank another. This time Spike noticed that as he passed his friend, the man handed him a folded bill.  
  
Spike disappeared for a moment, going somewhere or other. Jigen threw his hands in the air and began stomping off towards the bar. "Going somewhere, friend?" Lupin asked.  
  
"What? Do you want my hat and jacket, too?"  
  
"No, it's just that you lost."  
  
Lupin tossed the rack towards him. "So you rack."  
  
Jigen groaned.  
  
Spike came back, a pool cue in one hand and a cocky on his face. Lupin took the rack off the ball, eyeing his Japanese opponent.  
  
"So, what's your denomination, friend? Yen? Pounds? Lira? Gold bouillon, perhaps, or maybe bottle caps?" "Francs." "Oh, good."  
  
Lupin reached inside his coat.  
  
"Will, oh, say, ninety a ball do you fine?" Spike nodded. "Well, let's get started."  
  
The click of the billiards. The smoke, the music. It made Spike remember that night, so long ago. The C'est La Vie. Francs on the table. Pierre Le Fout watching. Julia. And another player at the tables... "I know who you are."  
  
Lupin said, not looking up from his shot. He sent another one into the pocket.  
  
"You're Spike Spiegel, the man that killed Vicious."  
  
Spike was silent. Lupin shot again and missed. Spike took his turn, eyeing the angles.  
  
"You managed to bring down an entire criminal organization in one night. A very impressive feat, if I do say so myself. I always wondered what happened to you."  
  
Spike was still silent. "That's all right. You don't have to say anything.'  
  
Spike looked up at Lupin.  
  
"I know who you are. I've played against you before. The only person who only shoots solid balls while they're out."  
  
"Putting the stripes away first is bad karma." Spike grinned, easing the cue back and forth.  
  
"Arsene Lupin the Third." Spike sank the eight ball. "The famous thief. You've made off with so much money it's embarrassing." Lupin looked innocent.  
  
"Why, how ever did you guess?" Spike sank the final ball, stood, grinned. He reached inside his jacket. "To the police, you're worth exactly eight hundred ninety thousand U.S. dollars."  
  
Spike's hand gripped the butt of his gun.  
  
"You sound like you've read up on me. I'm flattered." "It's my business."  
  
Spike released his gun and instead took a wad of bills. He counted out exactly what he owed Lupin and tossed it on the table. Pushing the money back into it's pocket, he nodded.  
  
"I think I'll see you again, Lupin."  
  
Lupin ground chalk against his cue.  
  
"Maybe. Maybe." Spike walked away into the smoke. He would see Lupin again, he had a feeling.  
  
He had a lucky feeling. 


End file.
